


Aubade

by Paian



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 1000-3000 words, 69 (Sex Position), Blow Job, Domestic, Established Relationship, Graphic Sex, Hand Job, M/M, Present Tense, Season/Series 08, Sex, Wake-Up Sex, flaccid penis play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-29
Updated: 2008-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paian/pseuds/Paian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack comes home after working through the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aubade

Jack gets home at daybreak, grumbling at the birdsong that should be sweet and cheering and only makes the all-nighter he just pulled feel more gritty and depressing. The comparative darkness and silence of the house are disorienting instead of soothing; the absence of Daniel's restful midnight snoring -- he always sleeps quietly for the couple of hours before the alarm goes off -- makes the night feel wasted, lost.

He comes into their dawn-lit room to find Daniel sprawled in the middle of the bed, as if to hold the space for both of them. He's kicked off the covers. He's wearing only a worn old V-neck undershirt, the white cotton washed and stretched into shapeless softness. One leg's angled out straight, the other flopped open; his balls hang soft and heavy between them, his thick, shapely penis a thoughtless drape to one side.

Jack's heartrate doubles; he swallows a flood of spit. The strong, warm scent of Daniel's groin rises on the air; must have just kicked the covers down, maybe when he heard the front door and Jack's quiet steps. He's completely asleep, mouth tender and lax, one arm flung up over his head and the other out into the space where Jack should be sleeping. The shirt's twisted across his chest, a loose ruck on his belly. He's absolutely beautiful.

Jack strips down and sits on the bed, careful to minimize the jostling. Rather than risk moving Daniel's arm, he pulls his feet up and sits Indian-style, hands on his knees. He wants to catch the rise of the morning wood; he wakes up to it almost every day, but he's never seen it happen.

Daniel sighs but doesn't stir. It's hard not to touch him -- reach up and explore the curl of his fingers, reach over and raise the light hairs on his shin, trace the contours of a smooth, perfect kneecap. He diverts the impulse into a movement to shut off Daniel's alarm, which will otherwise start blaring talk radio at them in about twenty minutes. When he settles back onto his butt, he lets his hands slide down his inner thighs, raising a wake of gooseflesh, and plays with himself lightly. By the time his boner vigil is rewarded by the sight of Daniel's cock filling slowly, rising up along the inside of his thigh and then listing over under its own weight to lie on top, he's got a substantial erection of his own.

The clock radio gives the click that signals the alarm tripped, but no audio comes on. Daniel closes his mouth, swallows, and opens his eyes. "Hey," he says, low and pleased, as he registers Jack's presence. He wakes up as beautifully as he sleeps, Jack thinks; a seamless transition from one state to another. He's unfazed to find Jack sitting there cross-legged, naked, and hard. The nearer hand flops onto Jack's knee, sending a warm tingle through Jack's body; the farther one comes down to give his own dick an idle stroke. He draws the straight leg up slightly as Jack's gaze drops significantly to his naked-below-the-waistness, and smiles when Jack looks back up and quirks an eyebrow. "I was hoping you'd take the invitation to wake me up if you came in during the night. Sorry you got stuck."

"The sight of this made up for it," Jack says, and runs his palm up Daniel's calf and inner thigh, gently prompting him to bend the leg more and open up. Daniel obliges, turning fully onto his back and moving both hands over his head.

Jack uncrosses his legs and rolls up to his knees to move between Daniel's legs. He spreads his knees, bracing out wide so that his balls brush the sheet, and Daniel lets his legs slide down so that his thighs rest partly on Jack's. The shift in position makes them both harder. Daniel won't be able to close up now, with Jack wedged into him. Jack has an unobstructed view of everything, and unhindered access. He can touch Daniel anywhere he wants to.

He strokes his thumbs up the creases of Daniel's groin. "Pull the shirt up," he says. "Slowly." Daniel takes it by the bottom and lifts, exposing the soft swell of belly over hard abs. "More," Jack says. "Higher. Show me." Daniel abandons the hem of the shirt and scrunches it up from just under his collarbones to draw the fabric sliding up over his nipples. Jack can see the caress of cotton harden and sharpen them before they emerge from under it.

Jack moves both hands to bunch the shirt so it'll stay, running them over Daniel's torso on the way up. Daniel arches to get off the back of it to help him, and drops his arms to the sides. Jack strokes across the exposed nipples, then around, waking them up, getting the circulation going. Daniel likes the friction, prefers them dry if he can't have the hard sucking and biting that leave marks that take extended downtime to fade, but Jack's too hungry to resist leaning down to suck, and he gives a few firm presses of teeth to make up for it, suggestions of bites around the areolas, before he lifts up and says, "Take over for me." Daniel rubs the saliva into his skin, in sultry circles, watching Jack watch him do it, then takes the nipples between thumb and forefinger and twists, a lot harder than Jack ever would. His hips jerk and his cock twitches, but it's Jack who lets out a low groan.

They're both rigidly hard now, and Daniel's leaking. Jack warms a palm over his cock and then wraps it in a warm, sure grip. Slow, squeezing pulls, thumb resting on the sweet spot, rubbing lightly. He pinches around the tip with his left hand, little gentle pinches that redden the skin and spread the leakage. Daniel's fingers echo the pinches on his nipples, maybe unconsciously, as he starts to go into the zone.

Jack moves his left hand to palm Daniel's belly. Daniel's lower abs are an intensely erogenous area for him, as much as Jack's inner thighs are for him. Jack rubs and kneads while he works Daniel's cock. Then he flips his hand over, bends his forefinger, and screws his knuckle into Daniel's navel. Daniel contracts, shuddering, his thighs clamping on Jack's, his fingers convulsively twisting and tugging his wet, swollen nipples. His balls pull up tight. His eyes glaze. He's there.

Jack brings him off in a pumping gush with long tight pulls and rubbing thumb, watching what orgasm does to Daniel's face.

After the spasms ease off, he gives Daniel a minute to breathe, then curls down, moving his hand between his own legs, intending to finish himself while he licks the come away and soothes the nipples with a gentle tongue. Daniel says, "Wait," softly, and when Jack looks up: "Flip around. Sixty-nine me." Jack tilts his head, surprised that Daniel's up for something that active. Daniel smiles and pats the mattress.

He stays on his back while Jack crawls around. Jack's never completely comfortable straddling him this way, mostly prefers to do this with both of them on their sides, but Daniel's happy in the position he's in, and when he guides Jack's cock down his throat with light fingertips, it slides butter-smooth into heat and wet, and Jack's hesitation melts. Daniel takes it all, reaching up to cup Jack's ass and pull him down to meet the upward tilt of face. Jack's whole body twinges at the deep-throating, the hot puff of breath on his balls, the ease of it, the slick, perfect fit, the perfect angle. He's close to losing it when the heel of Daniel's hand braces on his hipbone and urges him to withdraw partway. Jack eases back, stopping when Daniel's hand tells him to, shifting his body forward when Daniel's hand tells him to, stopping again when Daniel has him positioned where he wants him. Daniel's mouth closes over his glans, starts delivering a wet, gentle, pulsing suction. Daniel's right fingertips press along his shaft, giving little jerks now and then, little jolts of stimulation. Daniel's left hand cradles his balls.

Shaking with pleasure, he lowers his chest and shoulders, brings his face down to Daniel's skin. Licks up the semen, rolling the sweet, bitter alkalinity around in his mouth, mixing it with his spit, swallowing. Reaches between Daniel's legs again, lifts the spent balls to his lips to kiss and nibble. Finally takes the whole length and thickness of soft penis into his mouth, onto his tongue. His eyes slide closed in oral ecstasy. He sucks tenderly, and Daniel sucks harder, moaning on his cockhead, fingertips drumming on his shaft, a rainpatter stimulation that sends quivers down his thighs. He cups Daniel's scrotum up to his nose and breathes deep; Daniel's scent is like a drug, filling him to the bursting point.

The suction eases for just a moment, for Daniel's tongue tip to flutter over his cockhead, and then Daniel's mouth engulfs him in a hard surge and he can feel his balls contract and he's coming, coming, pulsing into Daniel, stuffed with Daniel, filled with him, buried in him, and Daniel is sucking his come down, soft happy slurpy noises the most beautiful morning sound Jack can imagine.


End file.
